I can’t be the only one who has noticed the little white labels scattered around campus. I thought society was against labeling these days, but that hasn’t stopped whoever is behind this scheme. I remember the first time I saw one. It read “Door” and was placed, unsurprisingly, on a door. I didn’t think much of it, until the next day when I saw a desk labeled, you guessed it, “Desk.”
After that, I kept my eyes peeled, watching labels appear, disappear and then appear again. Yet despite the recent buzz, the mysterious tagger has chosen to remain in the shadows. While fame awaits the labeler should they choose to reveal themselves, it seems they have no intention of doing so.
Meanwhile, this labeler has awakened the inner Sherlock Holmes in me. There is a labeler at large, and as long as they are in action, no nameable object is safe. But thanks to my dedication, bordering on obsession, with finding the labeler, I have managed to piece together some clues about their identity.
The labeler shows a clear preference for NDH. As an NDH patron, it’s impossible to miss the labels on everything from the tables, white tiles and what the labeler called the “Gruber Huber.” And while I have seen a label here and there during my occasional SDH lunches, they are not nearly as numerous. All signs point to an inhabitant of North Quad or Mod Quad. Or, perhaps, the labeler recognizes that North is the superior dining hall.
Hesburgh Library has also been heavily hit. The amount of labels and therefore time the labeler spends in the library makes me think they are a STEM major. However, my friend came across a label in Mendoza the other day which complicates things. Every clue that brings me closer to the labeler’s identity only begets more questions.
Exemplifying this is the question of the labeler's gender. I can say with some confidence that the labeler is a girl. I have seen way too many labels in women’s bathrooms to convince me otherwise. However, a guy also spotted a label in the men’s bathroom last week. Did the supposedly female labeler sneak into the men’s bathroom? Did she recruit a man to help? Or perhaps there are multiple labelers on the loose? These questions lack answers.
Labeling is intensive work. The custodial staff — the natural enemy of the labeler — frequently removes the labels. Constantly putting up new labels takes time and likely cuts into the labeler’s sleep schedule. However, it is crucial that the labeler remains vigilant, always ready to label the next object but never there to be caught. I suspect the labeler relies on coffee to sustain the energy required to label. This is why Starbucks, Hagerty and ABP have been labeled. Every vampire needs their blood, and every labeler needs their coffee.
Although the labeling scheme is genius, the labeler themselves may not be the brightest. I’ve noticed a couple of misspellings. Considering they are putting up labels for a bunch of Notre Dame students to see, one would think they could check their spelling. One time they even labeled a door as a “Desk.” This could be due to the labeler’s lack of attention to detail, especially since most labels are crooked.
But my favorite part of the labeler is when they sprinkle in some personality. Initially, the labels were straightforward. But soon the labeler began to take some creative liberties. DeBart became “DeFart,” the salt and pepper shakers were named “Cocaine” and “Spicy” and the ice dispenser was labeled “Ice Ice Baby.” The labeler isn’t all work and no play either. To my delight, I also spotted a label at Pigtostal.
Eventually, I wondered what would motivate a person to label everything. Not only does the idea have to pop into their head, but they have to be crazy enough to run with it. How does one even get into labeling? I imagine it’s like getting addicted to drugs. Perhaps they got curious and just wanted to try it once. Then they fell in love with the rush of seeing things labeled and, before they knew it, they couldn’t stop. Alternatively, they may have gone down a dark path and turned to the labeler in a time of need. I have researched labeling addiction and there are no previously recorded cases. But there is always a patient zero, and I believe they may be at Notre Dame.
Locations of the labels also provide potential insights into their motivations. There haven’t been any labels in a chapel or Coleman Morse, making me think the labeler is not religious. This may suggest that the labeler answers to a higher labeling power. If so, the labeling may be part of a divine mission. However, I think it’s more likely the labeler is just very bored or confused.
Even still, I worry about the allegiance of the labeler. Sure, labeling seems harmless, but in the wrong hands, it can be used for pure evil. I have seen several doors labeled “pull” when they are push! Can you imagine the confusion? One day the labeler went as far as to label a regular door “automatic door,” and I looked like quite the fool waiting for it to open. While this points to a diabolical motive, I think the labeler is good at heart.
Realistically, I will probably never meet the labeler. But if I did I would ask for an autograph in the form of a label. After that, I would propose a business partnership. I envision a scheme in which people become so dependent on the labels that eventually they are willing to pay to have things labeled. I will deal with the moral issues of profiting off people’s dependence on my product after I’m already rich. If big tobacco can navigate it, so can I. But I have to find the labeler first. I know they have left a clue, waiting for me to uncover it. And to the labeler, if you are reading this, bravo.
Allison Abplanalp is a junior finance and accounting major. If she could change one thing about the English language, she would make "a lot" one word. Her least favorite month is March because every year she is devastated when she fails to pick the perfect March Madness bracket. You can contact Allison at aabplana@nd.edu.
